Tingling Tissues
by Demosthenes23
Summary: Kinda spoilers for 808. Murdoch investigates two strange cases in one day.


****A ****_premature_**** B-Day present for Fallenbelle and Barbarama. Hope you gals (and everyone else) enjoy various shades of pervitude! :D****

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><p>The affluent Italian restaurant had been closed for business when one of its patrons had suddenly expired during his morning tea. Several witnesses lined the scene of the crime and were currently being interviewed by station house four constables.<p>

Detective Murdoch hardly acknowledged their existence. Rather his attention was wholly diverted towards the body on the ground, face contorted in hideous fashion, as if he had suffered unspeakable torture. He had the impression that the young man was normally very handsome, but all trace of this had been erased in death. The cup of tea was perfectly intact and resting nicely in its china saucer, but was precariously situated. Beside the overturned chair, the lacy table cloth had been partially pulled down. Murdoch suspected the man had been blindly groping for a saviour during his death throes.

He crossed himself and looked to Dr. Grace, who was examining the man's hands.

"What have you, doctor?"

"Nothing I'm afraid. I thought perhaps he had been poisoned, but there does not appear to be any signs of such a thing on his face or fingernails."

Murdoch knelt down across from her and wrinkled his nose. "What is that smell?"

"Smell?" she enquired in a puzzled manner. Dr. Grace took out a handkerchief and wiped her nose. "I'm sorry, Detective, but I've recently found my faculties impaired." Wryly, "I should not have taken my automobile out last night. It is unseasonably cold." Murdoch just stared at her and her smile vanished. "Perhaps if you described the odour I could assist you in determining its source?"

"All right." He wafted the air around the body as if it were one of his laboratory experiments and he was afraid of inhaling directly. "It's quite sharp. There seems to be a burnt quality to it...as well as a hint of something metallic."

"How odd," she replied, brow furrowing. "I can't see anything that would produce such a scent."

"Nor I." After scanning the body and surrounding area and not detecting anything out of the ordinary, he heaved himself up and clasped his hands together. "Well, I suppose further examination is in order."

"Indeed."

While two constables helped carry the body out on a stretcher, Murdoch approached Henry for an update.

"Sir. The dead man's name was Matthew Welch. He was a regular here."

"And could any of these people shed light on his demise?"

"No, sir. They are none the wiser. Mr. Welch suddenly went rigid and collapsed." Murdoch glowered internally. Henry flipped a page of his notebook. "However, one of the servers, a Mr. Hastings, recalls that Mr. Welch was behaving oddly before he kicked the bucket."

Murdoch gave a disapproving look that Henry did not catch. "Oh? Oddly how?"

"Apparently Mr. Welch was fidgeting in his seat frequently. Normally he is very still and composed during his afternoon constitution."

_A guilty conscience perhaps?_

"Anything else?"

The constable shook his head.

"Thank you, Henry."

"Sir."

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><p>A short while later Dr. Grace summoned him to the morgue. Murdoch was surprised at her expediency. The pathologist seemed to have forgone her usual thoroughness and Murdoch half thought her cold was the source of this rush. Nevertheless, he went with an open mind and was not disappointed.<p>

The corpse was resting on the slab, covered with the expected white sheet. Given the man's hideous death mask, it was pulled all the way over his head. Murdoch was silently grateful. Beside the dead man stood Dr. Grace, with a rather mischievous glint in her eyes.

Taking his hat off he queried, "Have you determined cause of death?"

"Yes, I believe so." Her eyes flashed. "Electrocution it seems."

"Electrocution?" Murdoch muttered, beyond puzzled. "I saw no electrical source capable of such a thing."

"No, you wouldn't have," she continued in that irritating know-it-all manner. "The source was not visible for the simple fact that it was _beneath_ his clothing."

"Beneath?" he repeated, feeling a bit like a broken record. "How do you mean?"

Instead of answering him, she lifted a smaller white sheet off of a tray, revealing a bizarre looking contraption. Attached to a leather holster was a plum sized metal - for lack of a better word- 'cage' split in half with a hinge. From this an equally thick cylindrical wire coiled down to a rounded point. There also appeared to be a small battery connected to the holster, a burnt out battery. The strange smell from the crime scene again permeated the air.

For once Murdoch was at a lose. He had absolutely no idea what this was.

Dr. Grace noted his confusion and appeared to be amused.

"I take it you know what this is?"

"While I am quite familiar with similar devices, I have never before beheld this particular model." Smiling, "It's a _shocking_," she paused giving him enough time to mentally roll his eyes, "means of preventing an erection."

Taken aback, "Come again?"

She pointed to the blasted battery and said, "Whenever Mr. Welch became too aroused, electricity would flow through the wires to the testicles and dissuade further...growth."

_Oh for the love of...no wonder his face was contorted in agony._

"Why on earth would anyone subject themselves to such torment?"

Dr. Grace gave him a pointed look. "Was there never a time you wished to control your own...urges, Detective?"

_Yes of course...but my will power was always sufficient enough._

He cleared his throat and then directed his attention back to the device. "Notwithstanding your no doubt _thorough_ assessment, I find it hard to believe that enough electricity could have been produced to kill him."

"Mr. Welch may have been young, but he was far from healthy. My autopsy revealed him to have a weak heart. He should have known better than to use this."

"Perhaps he was unaware of his heart condition?"

"Perhaps, Detective." Rather briskly and he thought a tad eagerly, "Now, if there is nothing else I can assist you with at the moment, I think I will go lie down. My headache has gotten considerably worse."

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><p>A few more hours were all that was needed to determine that Mr. Welch had in fact died due to 'natural' causes, and no foul play had been at hand, merely stupidity. Murdoch knew Julia would find this case intriguing, so he decided to surprise her for a late lunch. She too had taken ill suddenly and was recuperating at home. He bicycled the two miles to their house on the outskirts of town and leaned it beside the stairs, like he did every evening before greeting his wife.<p>

As soon as Murdoch entered their house he became aware of a familiar sound...that of his wife in the throes of ecstasy!

Shocked into immobilization, he simply stood there listening to her continued moans of passion. Before he could succumb to utter dejection and flee, a fire ignited in his blood and he charged into their bedroom, fully intending to murder the bastard who would dare enter his house - a house he painstakingly laboured on for over a year with his own two hands - and ravish his wife!

Bracing himself for an explicit encounter, he was instead met with an even odder sight. That of his wife fully clothed, eyes closed, gripping their sheets tight...but no one else present!

_Could this day get any stranger?_ he thought rubbing his forehead in confusion.

Despite himself he found himself becoming aroused at the sight of his wife mysteriously coming undone. He had never before seen her in such a state from an outsider perspective. As always she was magnificent. So he just watched her writhe around until she was finished, all the while pondering what was going on. In between her loud yes's and oh my God's, he could make out a mechanical buzzing sound. Even so, and because of his own increasing arousal distracting him - ever thankful he was not wearing Mr. Welch's device - he didn't understand its significance.

Soon she opened her eyes, chuckling faintly. "That was _quite_ something," she murmured, back of hand to forehead, unaware of his presence. "Such a pity this wasn't available earlier. It would have saved me a _lot_ of time." She sighed contentedly and then he cleared his throat.

"William!" she yelled, flushing crimson, pulling up the sheets as if she were indecent, and he a stranger.

Calmly, "Julia, what on earth?"

"William, I-" Their sheets continued to vibrate as if a dozen angry wasps were present. She hastily reached down beneath them and fumbled blindly for a moment. The buzzing suddenly stopped. "You have caught me quite off guard!" Evading the topic, "Wasn't there a murder?"

_Weren't you supposed to be ill?_

"It was not what it appeared to be. Not unlike," he gestured at her, "this." His wife didn't seem keen on explaining herself so he prompted her. "Once more I ask, what is going on here?"

Julia sighed and propped herself up. "Do you recall a case we worked together last year involving a...massager that Emily was quite taken with?"

_It wasn't just her as I recall it._

"Yes, of course I do. It was rather titillating. I had no idea such a thing existed, or that so many doctors were called upon to manually...relieve their patients. But what does that have to do with-" Finally it hit him when he caught sight of the cord in the wall. "Oh I see! Miniaturization!"

_You have acquired a massager...for your intimate area._

The idea both excited and disquieted him.

"Precisely, William," Julia replied, apparently relieved he had come to this conclusion on his own. Grinning, "It's an ingenious invention, if I do say so myself." By now Murdoch looked worried and she asked what was wrong.

"I simply don't understand why you thought it necessary." He glanced away. "I had thought that I-"

"Please don't think this has anything to do with a lack of prowess...you have always been more than capable of meeting my needs, William." She caught his eye and smiled kindly. He felt a little better. "I was simply curious. And to be honest, we've both been so busy lately that we haven't had time for proper intimacy...so I procured one of these massagers for myself to find out first hand what they can do."

_Apparently everything._

"I see." Attempting levity, "Is, 'makes husbands obsolete' by any chance on the label?"

"Not that I noticed," she replied with a smirk, "but I was not very concerned with reading." They shared one of their patented looks for a moment, the ones full of yearning and lust. "Now then, Mr. Murdoch, if you are finished for the day, would you care to come to bed and tend to your wife?"

He didn't need further prompting and they united in a way that they hadn't since their extended honeymoon. Murdoch was so determined to outperform the massager that Julia was thrown into several hysterical paroxysms and finally a deep blissful sleep, as if she had drunk an entire bottle of champagne herself.

While she was out, and after he had dozed a bit himself, Murdoch's own curiousity got the better of him and he tentatively extricated himself from his wife's embrace and examined the massager. It was a simple enough device, consisting mostly of a ten watt motor and a rubber nub at the end. The scent of his wife was all over this part and despite his tiredness, felt a tug down below. He glanced over to find her drooling peacefully and smiled to himself. No matter what state she was in, he couldn't help but find her beautiful.

As he set the massager down, he accidentally flipped the switch and the strong vibrations against his palm startled him...but also felt inexplicably good. He held the enclosed motor portion of it against the back of his neck and sighed as the vibrations and warmth coaxed away the recently acquired kinks. A dopey smile crossed his features. Julia snorted then and Murdoch jumped from his kneeling position, thinking he had been caught red handed. But no, she was still asleep.

Afraid she might wake up at any moment, and hyper aware of the merciless teasing that would ensue, he hastily shut it off and went back to bed to read. However, his mind was continuously dragged back to the massager and all of its delights...and if it had that kind of effect on _him_, well, he shuddered to think how much Julia adored it already and how much _more_ she would in the future. Still, he resisted the very strong inclination to run out of the house with it right now, bicycle to the nearest cliff, toss it over and watch it shatter into a thousand pieces so that no one, not even he could ever hope to put it back together again. In essence, murder the bastard ravishing his wife!

When she finally awoke that evening he forced his unease down and said, "Well now, Mrs. Murdoch, it appears you have no further use for the massager." He kissed her shoulder. "You have conducted your experiment and can return it tomorrow."

Julia laughed. "William, it's non-refundable." Murdoch made a face and she placed a hand to it. "I once again assure you there is no reason for concern...or jealousy. You will always be my first choice..." laughing, "but when you are not around I don't see why I can't enjoy myself a bit!"

"Julia!"

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><p><strong>I swear The Testicle Taser was a real thing invented in 1903! There was also this bear trap kind of model...Victorian's were insane! And now I can't stop thinking about all the corpses over the years that might have been wearing them! I'm insane too!<strong>

**Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers out there! Hope you have an ****_electrifying_**** day!**


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